


Come in Shinjuku

by lemoninagin



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: M/M, Sloppy Makeouts, alley way fun, izaya is totally hating this, silly sexy drabble, smug shizuo, snarkflirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2015-12-10
Packaged: 2018-05-05 22:21:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5392415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemoninagin/pseuds/lemoninagin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Shizuo fights, he always fights dirty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come in Shinjuku

**Author's Note:**

> amazing prompt from Love Puffs
> 
> u the best <3

_It's just a normal day in Ikebukuro._

A tongue slides past his lips, hot and heavy with the weight of _this is wrong, so fucking wrong,_ and Izaya whines not because he's enjoying it (no no not at all) but because this really, really isn't fair.

_Nothing strange about it._

Shizuo's got him pinned to the wall, wrists practically glued into the brick that's chafing hard against his skin, but Shizuo doesn't care about Izaya's comfort, at least not _that_ – his goal of pleasuring Izaya in other ways is doing far greater things to him than the pain shooting from his arm, which is nothing compared to the humiliation of that unrelenting mouth.

_An average day, nothing more, nothing less._

“Hnng, S-Shizu-chan, d-don't...” Izaya manages to groan out, and Shizuo's only response is to press his body further into him, swiping his tongue across Izaya's teeth and then pulling back to yank his lower lip in a rough bite. Izaya is torn, wants to slice the dumb beast to ribbons while at the same he'd love to have the use of his hands back so he can fight Shizuo in the same way.

Yeah, if only he could get his hands on him - drag them slowly across his chest, slip them under his shirt and back up to fondle his nipples so he can watch, yes, watch Shizuo's face contort beneath him, watch his head snap back with a moan and an arch of his back when Izaya glides his fingers swiftly beneath the waistband of his -

No, no, no – that's all wrong, this is all wrong!

_Such an ordinary day._

Shizuo nibbles on his already swollen lip, then moves back to attacking within, breathing shakily into Izaya's mouth when he pushes his hips flush against him, his knee between his thighs and mere inches from what's probably an erection, and the whimper that spills down Shizuo's throat is the greatest victory he's ever achieved.

It's pointless to fight this - whatever the fuck this is – and Izaya tips his head forward, face curved perfectly and thrusting his tongue in time with the brute's, lips crushing painfully and spit dribbling down his chin at the force - 'cause fuck if he's not gonna try and play some tricks of his own.

_This isn't weird at all._

But Shizuo's stoic in his quest, free hand tugging tight in Izaya's hair enough that his head is jerked back suddenly - nails digging in harder in the flesh of his wrist with the other - and simply moves his mouth away from Izaya's probing tongue so he can lap down his exposed neck, sucking towards his pulse point and grazing the sensitive skin with his teeth.

“F-fuck...” Izaya spits out between gritted teeth with a groan before he can stop himself. “I mean, f-fuck you...”

Izaya wriggles his hips in a futile attempt to get Shizuo to release him - and fuck, fuck, fuck that's not helping at _all_ – slick tongue sending a shiver down his spine and blood pounding hard in his ears. The lewd slurping goes on for a bit, and then a hard bite on his collarbone has Izaya moaning softly, shame instantly flowing over him as he grinds needily up against Shizuo, the friction between them simply not enough. 

Then suddenly, the pressure on his wrist disappears, the hand in his hair is gone, and those devious lips leave so there's only the ghost of a memory of them on his sweat slicked skin. Izaya opens his eyes warily (and goddammit, when had he even closed them?) to be met with the sight of a cocky Shizuo, standing straight and proud, a satisfied gleam in his eye.

"Yeah so...” Shizuo pants, still trying to catch his breath. Sloppily wiping off his mouth with the back of his sleeve, he pushes his glasses - which are extremely askew - back up the bridge of his nose and smooths out his rumpled vest with an air of indifference that is greatly pissing Izaya off. “...stay the fuck out of 'bukuro, louse. Or, next time...I'll come in Shinjuku!" 

Izaya blinks and then narrows his eyes, adjusting his pants to relieve some of the tightness that's there and trying to gain some semblance of dignity even though his legs have turned into jelly and don't seem to be working right at all.

"Y-you are so stupid. I think you mean come _to_ Shinjuku, Shizu-chan. Honestly, how can someone even be this dumb...” he finally manages to say with a snarl, trying to act as casually as Shizuo is and failing horribly, if the tremor in his suddenly unnaturally high voice and the noticeable shake of his frame is any indication.

Shizuo laughs and stuffs his hands in his pocket with a shrug, leans in close again, and Izaya's heart is already betraying him by picking up speed, much to his chagrin.

"Tch, no. You've misunderstood, Flea. I'll cum _in_ Shinjuku...” he says, voice serious but very light, as if he's talking about the weather to a good friend. “...when my dick is up your ass."

“...”

Shizuo smiles cheekily and winks, soaking in Izaya's aghast face, flushed deeply with that suggestion and unable to form a coherent sentence in response. They stare for a moment - Izaya with a glare and his mouth opened but silent for once, and Shizuo with that dumb, goofy broad grin and a high arch of his eyebrows in amusement.

Shizuo turns once he's had his fill of stuttering, flushing Flea and flings a hand out from his pocket in a lazy wave goodbye. Whistling a happy tune, he saunters off nonchalantly as if he's gone grocery shopping or had a nice walk in the park instead of having just spent the past ten minutes or so pinning his enemy against a wall with his tongue shoved down his throat.

It's a good five more minutes before Izaya can manage to make his legs work again, and about five more until he can run - albeit stiffly - back to Shinjuku, too embarrassed to sit among his humans on the train while sporting a hard-on the size of Tokyo.


End file.
